


Empty

by ideallyves



Category: PRISTIN (Band)
Genre: Angst, Car Accidents, F/F, One Shot, Oneshot, i felt like writing smth angsty, pHAT OOF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-02
Updated: 2019-02-02
Packaged: 2019-10-21 04:00:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17635616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ideallyves/pseuds/ideallyves
Summary: Sometimes the pain hurts more after the events of love lost.





	Empty

**Author's Note:**

> I felt like writing some pristin. I wrote this some time back and posted on twitter but I'll leave this here as well 
> 
> this is also more of just practice for me as well i guess but i hope it was alright

**emp·ty**

/ˈem(p)tē/

adjective

1.

containing nothing; not filled or occupied.

***

 

That's one way to describe it. The feelings, or lack thereof, that's left inside the hollow shell that she was now.

She didn't really remember when. When it was that she realized she could barely even lift an arm when she tried to get out of bed after waking up randomly throughout the night. She chose to try and not remember. She had gotten used to it though, opening her eyes past three in the morning, expecting a warmth to the right of the bed, only to be presented with a half empty bed. She got used to the monotonous routine, but never that dull feeling of loneliness that her mornings never failed to start with.

She's independent. She's strong. If she's gotten this far, that says something, right? ...So. Why? Why is it that the memories seemed so fresh when she would so much as glance at the couch they used to have popcorn and movie nights at. Or the dining table where they ate at, sometimes forgetting to finish dinner because they were too immersed in each other's anecdotes that they recalled. Even the kitchen, where they would wake up on lazy Saturday mornings to make each other pancakes, with one of them wrapping their arms around the other loosely from behind, watching the love of their life accidentally burning at least one of the pancakes from getting distracted by the other's touch.

Love of my life...

But what happens when that love is gone? When it ceases to exist? What happens to life? Love is a part of life. You can't live without the other half, can you? Maybe for a while, until you break. Life would start to feel grey, hollow, like a puzzle that was unfinished because someone tossed the last piece aside and forgot about it.

It's not like she hadn't tried to move on. She has tried, but it kept going back to the thought of starting over. All over again. The years she worked hard on to build on the wall of emotions and memories. All those years, all that time, just to tear them down and start over, brick by brick?

She was the only one that remembered.

She was the only one that remembered Nayoung couldn't stand the taste of milk. She was the only one that understood why she preferred to be silent, only speaking when she had to. She was the only one that she felt comfortable leaning on, for she didn't care that Nayoung would mess her shirts with the tears that streamed down her face from the emotions that Nayoung would have bottled up since the day started. She was the only one that comforted her when Nayoung had her doubts. She remembers that very voice, saying,

_"Forever! 'Till death do us part kind of thing, you know?"_

Nayoung didn't know. She really didn't.

_"I promise. By your side, it's where I want to be. No questions asked."_

That same honey-like voice ringed in her ears. She can't take it.

_"Do... do you think we can stay like this a little longer?"_

I can't take it.

_"I'm really happy, Nayoung. Thank you, like always."_

Stop...

_"Aha... you really know when to make me smile, Nayoung..."_

The way you say my name...

_"Nayoung!"_

It hurts too much.

_"Hey, Nayoung. It's fine to cry, you know."_

Was it really?

_"Of course! You don't have to hold everything in all the time."_

But I don't want you seeing that side of me.

_"Then I don't have to. I'll turn my back, if you want. Just- put your head here. See? We're both comfy. We're both okay."_

But I'm _not_ okay.

_"Then, just cry. As much as you want. Let everything go. Just let go, Nayoung. I'll be right here."_

Okay.

So she cried, screaming silently into the bed sheets, taking in that familiar scent that started to fade more each day. She cried, letting the tears stream non-stop down her already puffy and red face from having just woken up.

Will she ever be able to fill the gap, the pain that hasn't stopped growing the moment it first started, the emptiness that filled her, ironically, remembering the day they stepped inside the car, on their way to their annual anniversary date, or the blindiing lights that reflected off of the hospital walls while she could vaguely hear the words coming out of the doctor's mouth. She wasn't thinking straight, but all she could think about was her.

About how she felt cold without her touch. And now, all she's ever felt was the cold.


End file.
